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“Crowley,” Aziraphale said peevishly, "can I take off this ridiculous blindfold now?”
“Nope.” Crowley laid out the picnic blanket and put the basket down on it.
Aziraphale huffed in irritation, but allowed Crowley to guide him to sit down. “Do I at least get to know what on Earth you’re playing at?”
“Okay, yeah.” Crowley opened the picnic basket, took out a deviled egg, and touched it to Aziraphale’s lips. “Take a bite.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Take a bite. I didn’t oversalt them, I promise.”
If Aziraphale hadn’t had a blindfold on, Crowley would have been the recipient of a very skeptical look. As it was, Aziraphale hesitated, and then opened his mouth, leaned forward, and took a bite of the deviled egg.
“Mmm.” Which was exactly the sound Crowley wanted to hear. That sound did things to him, things he didn’t entirely understand. “Did you make these yourself, my dear boy?”
“Might’ve done,” Crowley admitted, and fed Aziraphale the rest of the egg. There was something thrilling about doing that. And it wasn’t just the fact that his fingers brushed Aziraphale’s lips.
Aziraphale reached up for the blindfold, and Crowley made a noise of protest. “I want to—I want to feed you with that on.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” Aziraphale admitted.
“I want to surprise you. I want every bite to be a surprise.” Crowley pressed the next bit of food to Aziraphale’s mouth. “Besides. You don’t know how it feels, after all these centuries. Being trusted. Trust doesn’t happen to demons, and you’re doing it anyway.”
Aziraphale made a louder noise of delight at the new morsel. “Oysters,” he said, when he had swallowed it. “You packed oysters?”
“Oysters were sort of—the beginning of something.” The beginning of Crowley’s fascination with Aziraphale and food. The first time he had watched Aziraphale eat, and realized that he could lose himself in the thousand little expressions, the little sounds, the sensual delight that Aziraphale took in it, and barely notice that he hadn’t had a bite himself. He hadn’t exactly been thinking about doing this since 41 AD. He hadn’t exactly not been thinking about it either.
“It’s fascinating,” Aziraphale said, after a few more bites. “Eating becomes a somewhat different experience when you don’t know what you’re going to taste next. This was an excellent idea, Crowley. Thank you.”
Crowley made an unintelligible noise before he managed, “No big deal.”
“I think perhaps it is a big deal.”
“I—nglrk—all right. Maybe. The thing is, I don’t know why this means something to me, it’s just—”
“I think you said it already,” Aziraphale said softly. “Trust. It’s—potent, from this end, too. Trusting myself to your hands, and knowing that every surprise is going to be a pleasant one.”
“You deserve pleasant surprises,” Crowley said. “You deserve so many pleasant surprises. Here.”
The sound Aziraphale made as he ate the strawberry was as sensuous as Crowley could possibly want.